Recruiting
by DopeyTheChosen1
Summary: The ELE gives Billy a special job: Go find some recruits! Title, plot, and summary need work. Suggestions are loved!
1. Prologue

_I do not own Dr. Horrible or any of the related characters blah blah blah . . . ._

_(Oh, and this thing needs a better title XD_

_Let me know if you have any suggestions!)_

_**Prologue: A Special Job**_

Moist was dozing on the couch when Billy finally got home. The henchman's eyes popped open when his friend slammed the door and marched into the apartment. Glancing at the clock, Moist saw that it was nearly two in the morning. Great. Whenever an E.L.E. meeting ran _this_ late, there were only two possible outcomes.

Either Billy was ecstatic because the League had made a breakthrough and had spent the majority of the night brainstorming, or it had been a night of arguments, fights, and the occasional maiming.

Judging from the way Billy slumped down on the couch, Moist assumed it was the latter.

"Rough night?" He asked, hoping to get some information from Billy without triggering a tirade.

The villain sighed. "Not really . . . I mean, the meeting itself was okay, but . . ." He shook his head and said, "They gave me a 'special job'." He spat out the last two words, his voice dripping with disgust.

Uh oh. What was _that_ supposed to mean?

"Do you . . . want some tea?" Moist asked, trying to lift the cloud of gloom that had descended upon his friend. Billy nodded and Moist went to the kitchen to put the kettle on before returning to the couch.

"So, what kind of job?" Moist asked, trying to prod Billy into telling him the whole story.

Laughing harshly, Billy growled, "Just some stupid little trip I need to take. It's one of those jobs that everybody hates because they interfere with their personal schemes, so they force it on the new guy--me."

The tea pot began to whistle (Moist had just finished making himself some ramen noodles, so the oven top was still hot), and Moist jumped up and went into the kitchen. Billy followed, still talking. So much for avoiding a rant.

"Apparently there's another group of villains. Well, they're not really a group because they're continuously screwing each other over. I mean, they're not an organization like the League. There's just a lot of them clustered in this one city. The League wants me to play the messenger boy and go scout out possible new members of the League."

"So you're gonna be like that guy that hangs out at the mall and tries to get juvenile delinquents to join the army?"

"Yeah, basically."

Moist handed the other villain the mug of tea and asked, "What city is it?"

Billy took a sip of the minty brew, shivering in delight as the hot liquid rushed down his throat. Moist made the best damn tea. Finally, he replied,

"Gotham. Gotham City."

------

_So there you have it. This thing really has no plot. It was just an idea that I wrote out on a whim. I don't know if it will go anywhere, although I do have a few scenes in mind. Suggestions are welcomed and loved._


	2. Chapter One

**((The following utter rambling. It just explains a few things about my relationship with Batman (that sounded bad. You know what I mean). You don't have to read it if you don't want to…))**_Wow, I didn't think anyone would like this! Now that I know people are reading it, I guess I should point some things out. This fic says it's a cross over with "The Dark Knight"--that's because "The Dark Knight" is my most favorite-est Batman movie evar. I only did that because I didn't know which "Batman" to choose, so. . . yeah. It's set around the same time was "The Dark Knight" . . . but that doesn't mean that more Batman characters than those in the movie can't show up. But I should warn you: My knowledge of Batman is based on Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, and those two movies by Tim Burton (wih Jack Nicholson as the Joker, and then with Catwoman and Danny DeVito as the Penguin--I dunno who plays Catwoman =.=;) . . . And I have also read "The Killing Joke" and the first hardcover volume of the Harley Quinn comic series. And then there's always that old TV show from the sixties or something . . . LOL . . ._

_Just so you know. I'm not a MAJOR Batman nerd . . . just a minor one . . . so I don't know if I can do all of the characters very well … but I'll try! +o+_

_Sorry to waste your time with all this. I just thought you should know …_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dr. Horrible or Batman yadda yadda yadda.**

**_Chapter One: No Heroes?_**

**S**tepping out of the airport, Billy was glad for the jacket he had tucked away in his suitcase. Gotham City was much colder than downtown L.A., and the Californian shivered a bit as he got into a cab.

The ELE had set him up at a hotel not far from the airport (the League had also paid for his ticket). The room was nice, and had a large window that overlooked the busy street that lay four stories below.

Billy really didn't know what would be the best time to go looking for villains, and he was worn out from the trip (he had run into a Captain Hammer fangirl who recognized him and went all Chuck Norris on his ass. Luckily, everyone just thought she was crazy and the sky marshal restrained her somewhere that wasn't the passenger area).

The sun would be setting in an hour or so, and night would probably be the easiest time to find villains who worked in the darkness. Scratch that. The easiest way to find _any_ villain was to cause a scene and announce his presence as Dr. Horrible. Unfortunately, that would probably stir up any heroes in the area.

Another reason night would be a good cover. Billy didn't have much experience with heroes, but he hadn't ever heard of one working at night. They probably liked to work in broad daylight so that everyone could see them.

Billy chuckled as he threw on his jacket and left the hotel room. He'd call Moist on the way out of the building, then he'd go find something to eat. That was one of the nice things about this little trip--the League was paying for the majority of it.

He sighed when he got into the empty elevator and dialed Moist's number on his cell phone. Another nice thing about this trip was that now he had a chance to simply get away from it all.

To put it simply: the year he'd been in the ELE had not been a pleasant one. Oh, sure, it was great fun to be a member of the League and to take part in their schemes and plots, but there was always one thing at the back of his mind. Whether he was sleeping or awake, it never left him. It was always there, trying to revive memories that he had locked away. Sometimes it succeeded, and a painful wave of remembering washed over him.

Penny.

He had accepted her death, but it still hurt to think about it. Hell, he had even accepted that it entirely his fault. If that idiot Hammer had only listened to him . . .

But Hammer was getting what he deserved, or at least Billy thought so. The hero hadn't quite been . . . the same. Not since the incident with the exploding death ray and all that.

Hammer's pain didn't do much to ease Billy's own suffering. Penny was still dead. It didn't matter whose fault it was. She was gone.

Billy had looked into the whole Frankenstein bit, of course, but he knew it wouldn't work. Even if he managed to reanimate her body, he couldn't bring back her soul. It would be nothing more than a walking corpse. It wouldn't be Penny. Nothing could be Penny. Never again . . .

" . . . illy. Billy. BILLEH! Bilililililililililly! Billy! Bill-eeeeeeee!"

It took Billy's brain a moment to register that Moist had picked up the phone and was talking to him. Then it took another couple of seconds to get his mouth to work as he stepped out of the elevator.

"Hey, Moist," he finally said, his throat dry. He had no idea where to find a decent meal. This was stupid. He should have just ordered a pizza to the hotel room. He smiled sadly to himself at the negative tone he had adopted. He tended to do that when he thought about the past.

"What's up? What took you so long to answer?" Moist asked. Billy could hear the TV in the background.

"Nothing," he said. "I was just thinking. Spacing out. Anyway, I'm just calling to let you know that I'm in Gotham at some fancy hotel or other. I was just about to get myself something to . . . Moist?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you . . . are you watching _The Lion King_?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

" . . . not many movies have hyenas yapping while a lion sings about killing off his brother and nephew . . ."

"So you recognized the song, then?"

"I'd recognize Scar's voice any day."

"He's an inspiration to villains everywhere."

". . . right . . . Just letting you know what's up." Billy said, grinning as he crossed the street and looked for a promising restaurant. "You'd think there'd be more by a hotel like this . . ." He muttered. But all he could see was a McDonald's. If the League was paying the bill, there was no way he was eating fast food. Well, maybe Taco Bell, but that was it.

"So, you have a plan for tonight?" Moist asked. Billy figured he was turning down the TV--the last bit of "Be Prepared" was fading out.

"Sort of," Billy sighed. "Honestly, I don't know where these guys are going to be. I'm starting with something to eat."

"Didn't you eat on the plane? You got in pretty late."

Billy laughed. "Yeah, I did. But then I learned that my stomach doesn't like flying . . . and that those little bags they give you don't hold very much."

"Aw, gross."

"Uh-huh. Pretty much." Billy said. "So I'll grab some dinner and then go back to the hotel to change before starting the hunt."

"You think they'll be out at night?" Moist asked doubtfully.

"I don't know, really," Billy admitted. "But it seems likely . . . and, hopefully, there won't be any heroes about."

"Oh, yeah. Good idea," Moist said. "_Are_ there any heroes around there?"

"I don't think so," Billy said, finally coming into a part of town that almost promised a decent meal. "The League would have warned me."

"Yeah. That should make things easier," Moist said. "But . . ."

"But _what_?" Billy asked, glancing at the various neon signs around him. None of the places looked very appetizing. Where was he, anyway? There had been maps at the front desk at the hotel lobby. He should have grabbed one.

"Well, wouldn't you think there'd be at least _one_ hero around all these rogue villains running all over the place?"

"The league would have told me," Billy said again. He didn't know why he put so much faith in the League. Maybe it was because it was all that kept him going. Without it, he had nothing.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Moist aked.

"Yeah, I've got you, too, Moist," Billy said, smiling to himself.

" . . . _what_?"

"Uh . . . nothing," Billy said, laughing as he imagined the confused look on Moist's face. "Just thinking."

"Oh . . . kay . . ." Moist said, a little weirded out. "You've been doing that a lot, haven't you? Look, I gotta go now, but promise me you'll do something, okay?"

"Sure, what?"

"Call the League. Check up on the hero situation of Gotham . . . or lack thereof, if that is indeed the case. I don't want to have to fly over there and save your butt."

"Yeah, okay, Moist," Billy laughed, hanging up the phone. Then he picked a restaurant at random and walked inside. He was so hungry that he could have eaten anything.


End file.
